


Dreams Of Sammy

by lunakir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Bobby, Bobby Deals With Idjits, Bobby Knows, Bottom Sam, Confused Sam, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester - Freeform, Dean just loves his Sammy, Dream a Little Dream of Me, Drunk Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, POV Third Person, Parental Bobby Singer, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam/Dean - Freeform, Season 3, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, boys being idjits, season 3 episode 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1794283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunakir/pseuds/lunakir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during 3.10 - Dream A Little Dream Of Me. Sam takes the dream root and follows Dean into his dreams. Only problem is Dean doesn't think of his brother in a very platonic way and how is Sam going to react to seeing himself bent over the implala with his brother on top of him? Wincest, smut and strong language</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I originally posted this story on ff.net but we all know that sucks now so enjoy! Please let me know if you want more :)

African dream root. African fucking dream root. 

Dean didn’t like a lot of things, he didn’t like people messing with his baby (that could either be his car or his Sammy) and he didn’t like people trying to get in his head. Dean didn’t even venture that far into his own head. But because of one little stoner dude, Sam wanted to get inside his head. Dean’s head was not a place for Sam, not his Sam. No, Sammy was too pure and good to ever peek into the disgusting darkness that was Dean’s mind. 

Dean knew that he deserved his fate, he knew that he should burn in Hell because after all Hell is the place for sick bastards like Dean Winchester. The place where men who wanted to bend their baby brothers over and fuck them senseless were punished. And Dean knew that he deserved that punishment. 

And Dean knew that if Sam got a look into his brother’s head then Sam would know too. Know what a sick fuck Dean really was. He would know that all Dean could ever think about was Sam, Sam naked, Sam bent over the impala, Sam moaning, Sam, Sam, Sam. Dean couldn’t lose his brother, no, he’d die before he’d allow Sam to hate him. 

But that meant that Dean would have to say no to Sam. And Dean could never resist Sam, if Sam wanted it then by God, Dean would get it for him. Because Dean would do anything to see his brother smile. Dean lived for his little brother’s dimpled grin and if he could be the one to put it there then let’s just say it made Dean one happy son of a bitch. 

Dean turned his head to look at his brother, biggest mistake he ever could have made, because there was Sammy with his wide puppy dog eyes and his mouth turned down at the corners. 

“I’m not letting you do this alone, Dean. I’m coming with you”

Sam had his no nonsense tone on, the one that usually accompanied his classic bitch face. And goddammit, Dean gave up. He was tired and angry and if Sam wanted to see what a mess his brother was then fine. 

“Just don’t hate me when it’s over, Sam” 

Dean’s words were mumbled, barely coherent and didn’t make any sense to Sam. The elder WInchester simply lay back and closed his eyes. He welcomed his sleep with open arms. 

Sam watched his brother for a split second before joining Dean in his dreams.


	2. Chapter Two

Dean didn’t really want to leave the car once he had fallen asleep and woke up inside his own mind. He didn’t want to uncover anything, more importantly he didn’t want Sam to uncover anything, to learn Dean’s dirty little secret. 

“Come on, let’s go”

Sam hadn’t even finished his sentence before jumping out of the car to explore the confusing world that was his brother’s head. Sam wasn’t really sure what they would encounter, he hoped to hell he did not have to witness any “Busty Asian Beauties” fantasies that Dean was likely to have. Dean was open enough with Sam as it was and there was some things that he didn’t need nor want to know. 

Dean forced himself to move, to get out of the car. His movements were heavy and slow, sluggish even. He was aware that he probably looked like a man walking to his death. Hey, there was a chance Sam would be so disgusted that he might kill Dean thinking that his brother was possessed. Dean looked up at his brother, the fact that he had to still annoyed the hell out of Dean - he was the oldest goddammit, and saw that Sam was watching him, waiting for him to take charge. Because that’s how it was for the Winchesters, it didn’t matter how much of a fuss Sam would kick up, Sam would always follow his older brother’s lead. Always. And, Dean, in his own sick way loved it, because it meant that Sammy was his and my God, did that make Dean feel all warm and happy inside. It made his dick happy too, but he tried to ignore that. 

So, Dean strode on ahead, making sure to swagger. He couldn’t have Sam knowing he was afraid, no, that’s not how it worked. And Sam followed him, matching every step like he always had. Dean hated walking next to Sam, it physically hurt being close to him and not being able to touch him. He wasn’t saying he wanted to walk off into the sunset holding hands with Sam, but he’d like every now and then to just brush against him or something. Or, you know, grab Sam and push him up against a wall, that’d be pretty awesome. 

In accordance with Dean’s thoughts, a wall sprung up. In the middle of a fucking forest. And Sam was looking at him like he had about 4 heads. 

“Shut up”

Dean growled at Sam and continued to walk forward. His feet crunching on the twigs and dirt beneath him. It just seemed as if there were trees and trees going on forever and Dean knew he never dreamt simply about trees. Dean sighed and tried to focus on finding this Jeremy kid and when he did find the little shit, Dean would tear him apart.

Sam was quiet by his brother’s side, well as quiet as a fucking sasquatch could be with heavy footfalls. In all honesty both brothers were quiet, both scared of what they might find. 

They seemed to reach some sort of clearance and there was themselves, Sam and Dean on the impala bonnet. Dean forgot how to breathe as he watched his dream self crush Sam to him and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. All teeth and tongue and aggression. And Sam was making these noises, proper happy noises and Dean’s hands were everywhere and so were Sam’s and god was Dean jealous of his dream self. Sam and Dean didn’t seem to notice they had an audience as they continued to kiss and bite and lick at each other. Their clothes were beginning to scatter over the grass and fuck, Dean was bending Sam over. And Sam was moaning like a fucking porn star and Dean could practically feel his dick trying to get out of jeans. 

And that’s when dream Sam looked over and smiled, all bright eyes and dimples and goddammit if he didn’t look fucking edible. Dean could tell the real Sam was looking at him too but Dean couldn’t take his eyes of dream-Sam. Because dream Sam was looking at Dean like he was a fucking god and Dean wanted to punch his dream self for touching what was his. Dream Sam just kept moaning and chanting Dean’s name and Dean was doing all he could to not go over and take his dream self’s place, to be the one of top of Sam, to be bending him over, to be kissing and biting his neck, marking him.

Dean’s train of thought stopped dead when he felt a fist smack into his face sending his head flying back, and there was Sam, the real Sam. Sam who looked like he might throw up. Sam who just punched his brother. 

“Sammy”

Dean’s voice was barely a whisper, desperation leaked into his voice. No, no, no, Sammy, I’m sorry, please, no, don’t hate me.

“Don’t. Just don’t”

Sam’s reply was harsh, his voice sounding full of gravel. Dream Sam and Dean had long disappeared leaving the real Winchester brothers alone. The tension seemed to radiate from them and Dean couldn’t even bring himself to look at Sam’s face, to see the hatred that was undoubtedly there. And that’s when they heard the sound of twigs snapping beneath feet and there stood Jeremy, baseball bat in hand and a smirk planted across his ugly face. 

“And I thought that I was fucked up”


	3. Chapter Three

Dean stared at the twisted face of Jeremy, taking a split second before charging at him. Dean was going to kill the kid, he was going to fucking destroy him. If it hadn’t been for Jeremy then Sam would have never found out, Sam wouldn’t hate Dean. It was Jeremy’s fault that Sam stared at Dean like he had never seen him before, it was Jeremy’s fault that Sam had punched Dean. It was all Jeremy’s fault. 

Sam watched his brother’s face contort as he laid eyes on the Jeremy kid, Sam watched as pain, guilt and unadulterated anger engulfed Dean and then Dean was at the kid. Dean was punching him, pounding his face with his fists. Sam couldn’t move, he was tired and confused, everything was too much.

Dean didn’t think he had ever punched someone so much, his fists was a blur in front of him, all Dean felt was anger. And he knew, that really, it was himself that he wanted to hurt, to punish. For years, Dean had made sure his little brother never knew, made sure that Sammy never suspected a thing, made sure not to stare too long or touch inappropriately but now, now Sam knew. And Sam hated him. Sam would leave him. Again. 

Dean couldn’t breathe, his arms were like lead, his knuckles stained with blood. Sam would leave. Dean couldn’t live without Sam. He couldn’t. He’d rather die, he’d rather face Hell. He looked down at the bloody face in front of him before swinging one more punch.

A punch that made both brothers jolt awake inside of the impala, where the only sounds were beating hearts and harsh breaths. Dean didn’t know what he was meant to say, he didn’t do chick flick moments. Sam was the one who could talk about important things. Dean could only make stupid jokes and put on his signature grin. That was all Dean was good for. 

“How long?”

Sam’s question seemed to have left his mouth before his brain had fully registered his thoughts. Sam’s thoughts were a mess though, just a jumble of hurt and confusion. Dean drove for a while without speaking, he didn’t want to answer Sam’s question, to let his brother how long he had been a sick little freak for. But, as always, if Sam wanted something from Dean then Sam got it. 

“I don’t know, around the time you started high school”

Dean spoke fast, his answer mumbled. If Sam didn’t catch it the first time then Dean was sure as hell not repeating it. He chanced a look over at the man next to him, Sam’s brow was furrowed and his lips pursed. Dean knew that look, it was the face Sam had on when he had to solve particularly hard problems. Because that was Sam, always had a solution, always had to fix everything, fix everyone, fix Dean. 

There some things in life that Sam thought he would always understand. He knew he would never not understand simultaneous equations or gravitational energy. And up until a few hours earlier, Sam was sure he would always understand his brother. But, this, this didn’t make sense. Why would Dean think of Sam like that? Dean was straight as a fucking arrow and seemed to hump everything in a skirt. Why would someone like Dean want someone like Sam? Sam knew that Dean was charming and funny, and Sam would have to be blind to not realise that his brother was most definitely considered attractive. Dean was everything that Sam wasn’t. Sam had spent the whole of his life in the shadow of his older brother, he was just the hot guy’s freakishly tall brother. 

Sam liked understanding things, he enjoyed theories and knowing the in’s and out’s of everything. If he didn’t understand, he didn’t feel safe. Sam tried to think back, to think of any clue that Dean had thought of him more as a brother when they were growing up. He knew that Dean had always watched Sam, his eyes stalking his brother’s every movement. It had made Sam feel protected and loved, because he knew, that no matter what, Dean would be watching out for him. But, had Dean, instead of keeping an eye on Sam, been appraising him? Checking him out? 

Sam’s mind was just a whirlwind of never ending questions. Was Dean in love with him? Is that what this was? Or did Dean just think Sam was nice to think about. 

“Fuck. Sammy. Say something. Anything”

Dean’s plea was harsh, his hands gripped at the steering wheel hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. It scared Dean when Sam was quiet. He needed Sam like the air he breathed and that meant he had to hear Sam’s voice. 

“There’s not much to say, Dean. I mean do you love me? Are you in love with me? Or am I just your kink of the week?” 

Sam’s tone had turned sour by the end of his question, his face and voice but betraying his unhappiness at the thought of being a “plaything” for Dean. It made Dean want to reach over and shake his brother because Sam was never just anything. Sam was everything. Dean didn’t know if he was in love. He didn’t know what that was. He knew that he loved Sam, loved him so much his chest would tighten when Sam was near or his breaths would shorten. Dean knew that he’d willingly sacrifice anyone to keep Sam safe. And Dean also knew that the thought of Sam made Dean’s inside warm up and his blood rush down south. He knew he’d do anything to be able to have Sam, to take him, when he wanted, wherever he wanted. Was that what being in love was? Loving someone and wanting to fuck them senseless? Because, if it was then Dean was in love with Sam. Dean was insanely in love with Sam. And god, did that terrify the fuck out of Dean. 

“I think...I think I love you”

Dean could barely breathe, he was sure he’d never be able to unclench his fingers. There stiff and firm around the steering wheel and Dean didn’t dare look in Sam’s direction. He had said words that he never thought he would say and now he knew that Sam had complete control. Sam could break Dean with only a few words. Sam’s rejection would burn worse than any hellfire and all Dean could do was sit and wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was hurt. His chest ached in a strange and unpleasant way, he gasped for air but his lungs felt empty. Dean loved him. Dean was in love with him. Sam was pretty sure there wasn’t a certain protocol on how to deal with finding out your brother was in love with you so Sam felt justified in feeling hurt. 

Dean couldn’t love Sam because if he did then why didn’t he constantly blow Sam off to hang out with girls? Or make Sam wait at some seedy bar while Dean took someone back to their room? If Dean loved Sam then he wouldn’t just forget about Sam as soon as some girl with big tits and a little waist walked by.

Once Dean had turned 16, Sam got used to being forgotten about. Sam knew that Dean would much rather hang out with some airheaded babe than spend time with his nerdy little brother. So, Sam got used to Dean ditching him, cancelling plans and breaking promises. Because Dean was Dean, and Dean liked having sex with random strangers. 

Sam’s thoughts whirled around his head, a mass of confusion. Why hadn’t Dean just told Sam how he felt? When they were younger they told each other everything, no matter how embarrassing or stupid.   
Sam looked over at Dean, the man next to him had no resemblance to his brother. This man was tense, his back painfully straight and his hands fastened to the wheel so hard Sam was sure Dean would never be able to unclench them. Sam had made Dean look like that, it was Sam’s fault, it always Sam’s fault.

Sam continued to stare at his brother, tracing every detail of Dean’s face as if he had never seen it before. Of course Sam knew Dean’s face as well as he knew his own. He knew every expression that had ever been on his brother’s face and he had committed them all to memory. Sam could not bear the sudden rush of pain that threatened to swallow him when he thought of what it would be like when Dean was in Hell. He could not bear to think of the silent road trips, or renting one bedroom motel rooms. Sam needed Dean, he had always needed Dean. Because Dean took care of Sam, never let him anywhere near harm and now because of Sam, Dean was going to Hell.

Sam thought of every time Dean had sacrificed himself for Sam. Every time Dean had gotten in trouble at school for beating up anyone that dared to hassle his brother, every time Dean had fought with their father for Sam, every time Dean had gotten hurt, had almost died just to keep Sam safe. Sam knew that Dean would do anything for him and maybe, it was about time Sam returned the favour. 

Sam was sure he did not share the same kind of love that his brother had for him. But he knew that he did love Dean and he’d do anything to see him smile. And Sam owed him. Because Dean was dying, Dean was going to Hell, Dean had given up his soul for Sam. And Sam would give Dean anything he wanted and it seemed that all Dean wanted was Sam.   
Sam wasn’t sure how far he could go with this but he would try, for Dean. Because if this was Dean’s dying wish then Sam was sure as hell going to make sure it came true. Even if Sam wasn’t being entirely honest or true in his actions, he could fake it. For Dean, Sam would do anything. Even give himself to Dean, if that’s what his brother wanted, then Sam would do it.

“Stop the car, Dean”

Dean jumped at his brother’s voice, Sam hadn’t spoke for over half an hour. Dean had wondered if Sam would would ever speak a word to him again.

“Stop the car. Now, Dean”

Sam’s voice was sharp, his eyes dark and his jaw set. Dean had seen that look only a few times, it meant that Sam had made a decision. And everyone who knew that once Sam made a decision there was no going back. Sam was a stubborn little bitch and Dean knew that more than anyone. And Dean knew, he just knew, that if he stopped the car then Sam would get out and walk away. Sam would leave. And Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to stop his brother, he hadn’t been able to stop Sam when he left for college. Sam would leave and Dean would be left broken. 

Without Sam, Dean would welcome death and the burning pit with open arms. The pain of Hell would be nothing compared to the pain of losing Sam.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean had never been patient. Everything had to happen fast, no breaks and no pauses. Dean didn’t have time to pause. He needed to be on all the time. Sam was the one that would stop, he’d be the one to savour the moment and make Dean see the beauty of a paused moment too. Dean’s life was a constant blur of events, drinking, hunting, sex, then more drinking, but Sam made him stop. Sam made time stop, the blur to clear and all Dean could ever see was Sam. Dean felt that is his life seemed to be a jumble of unimportant confusion unless he was with Sam. Dean never wanted time to speed up with Sam, he didn’t want to drown out his voice and blur out his face. 

If there was one thing John Winchester had learned about his eldest, it was to never interrupt or try to hurry Dean’s Sammy time. Dean didn’t care if he had to wait thirty minutes because Sam had one more chapter to read or if he had to drive an extra ten miles because there was a diner that served Sam’s favourite coffee. Dean forgot time and what it meant if he could make Sam smile. If Dean could he would make time stand still when he was with Sam and he would never allow those dimples to leave his little brother’s face or to see that downcast look in Sam’s eyes that had been present a lot more than Dean would like. 

Once again, time stopped as Sam and Dean sat in the car together. The car they had grown up in, Dean could still clearly see the young Sam with his mop of curly hair and his bright eyes sitting in the backseat forever asking questions about everything and nothing. Dean could remember running his fingers through the unruly curls when Sam would finally give in to his drooping his eyes and willingly fall asleep on his brother, safe in the knowledge that nothing could hurt him. Back then, Sam would look at Dean like he had all the answers, like he was better than every superhero. Now Sam wasn’t looking at Dean at all, his head was leaning on the window with his eyes looking downward.

Dean wondered if he had lost Sam, his Sam. 

Sam could feel his brother's eyes on him, he always knew when Dean was looking at him because Dean was never not looking at him. It had always made Sam feel protected, like nothing bad could ever happen when his big brother was looking out for him but now the ever present stare unnerved Sam. It made him feel exposed, he could see Dean looking through him, peeling back his skin to look inside. Dean always knew what Sam was thinking, even when Sam wasn't all that sure. 

Sam's head was in a whirlwind of thoughts. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Sam was never very good at acting first and asking questions later, that was Dean. But Sam didn't have enough time to think about what he was doing, he never had time anymore. He hadn't had any time since Dean had made that stupid deal. 

Sam decided that this one time he could not think. So he didn't. He didn't think when he leant over and grabbed Dean's face. He didn't think when he crashed his lips to his brothers. Sam just didn't think.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the kudos, let me know if you want more!

Dean was dead. 

Dean had to be dead, that was the only explanation. That or he was already in hell because this had to be a trick, a cruel ugly trick played by Lucifer or maybe even Meg. Because Sam couldn't be kissing him, not Sam, never his Sammy. 

But it was Sam. It was Sam's large hands that were placed on either side of his face, it was Sam's body pressing against him and it was Sam's lips that had brushed against his own leaving Dean's lips burning. 

Dean may as well have been dead, he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he wasn't even entirely sure his heart was still beating. 

Sam pulled away from Dean, confused by his lack of reaction. Isn't this what Dean had wanted? Sam felt the heat rise to his face, a pretty blush spreading across his cheeks. Maybe he was wrong? Why hadn't Dean done anything? 

"Why did you do that?" 

Dean's question was rasped out, his voice croaky and unlike his own. Sam's eyebrows furrowed, his confusion clearly etched onto his face. 

"I thought it was what you wanted..."

Sam's voice trailed off as Dean's face darkened. 

"Did you want to? Did you want to kiss me?" 

Dean's question came out harsher than he meant to, and immediately guilted flooded him as he watched his brother flinch at his tone. 

Sam didn't answer. He hadn't wanted to kiss Dean, not in the way the other man meant it anyway. He had kissed his brother because he wanted to repay him for all the sacrifices Dean had made for him, to apologise for the shit Sam had put him through. 

Ultimately, Sam didn't have to answer. Dean could see it clearly in his little brother's face. Sam didn't want Dean. The thought sliced through him and hurt worse than any damage a demon could do. Sam didn't want Dean and all Dean wanted was Sam. Dean's chest ached in a strange way, like Sam had punched his fist right through him. He didn't want to look at him anymore, he didn't want to see his brother's doe like eyes that always seem to look right through him, always able to cut through the bullshit to see Dean. The real Dean, not the bravado that did a piss poor job of covering up how fucked up he really was. 

Dean had already reached for the clutch of the car and turned the engine on before Sam realised he had fucked up. Big time. The impala lurched forward as Dean began driving and Sam felt his stomach lurch with it. Sam wanted to say something, to make Dean look at him but he knew he had done enough damage already. He could see the pain in his brother's eyes, eyes that were brimming with hurt and anger. 

Sam had hurt Dean. Again. That was all Sam seemed capable of doing, he only ever hurt Dean or disappointed him. 

The rest of journey was in eerie silence, the absence of Dean's obnoxious singing and Sam's reproachful sighs was painfully obvious. The air was thick with tangible tension, the silence threatening to suffocate both brothers. 

Sam almost sighed in relief when Dean stopped the car outside of some seedy motel. He chanced a look over at his brother, hazel eyes quickly skimming over Dean's face. Sam's chest ached as he noted the hard lines etched on to the other man's face and the tightness around his eyes. Dean didn't look at Sam. Dean didn't even spare him a glance as he got out of the car and sauntered into the motel. Sam was left trailing behind, his long legs catching up in little time. 

Dean didn't dare look at his brother as he checked them in, Dean's head didn't even turn when he got the room keys and started heading towards their room. He didn't show any signs that he was even aware Sam was with him but of course Dean knew Sam was there. Dean always knew where Sam was, he could feel Sam's presence following him as they entered their shitty room and dumped himself on one of the shitty beds. 

"Dean..."

Sam's voice sounded so small and heartbreakingly young that Dean's arms seemed to actually ache in need to hold his brother. But Dean didn't move from his spot on the bed, he didn't look at Sam. Dean didn't know if he could ever look at Sam again. 

"I'm going out. Don't wait up" 

Dean was already at the door before he had finished speaking and was outside by the time Sam had registered what Dean was saying. 

Sam eyes followed Dean as he got in the impala and drove away, away from Sam. Sam continued to stare at the empty parking lot long after Dean had left, his heart and head thumped in time and a horrible churning sensation burned through his stomach. 

Dean had left Sam. And Sam wondered if Dean had experienced the same empty feeling every time Sam left Dean. 

Sam kicked his shoes off and unbuckled his jeans before pulling them down and curling into the nearest bed. He lay there in the dark, his chest aching and with every fibre of his being, Sam wished for Dean to come back. 

That night Sam dreamed of bright green eyes, freckles and hellfire.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is ridiculously late, I'm so sorry. Anybody even care anymore?

The smell of sweat and cheap beer assaulted Dean's nose as soon as he stepped foot inside of the crappy bar he had found in his desperate need to find a source of alcohol. Sam would hate this place, he'd complain about the sticky floors, the barely there lighting and the obnoxiously loud music. He'd plead with Dean to let him go home to read or something equally boring and unsociable and Dean would, without fail, convince his not so little brother to have one beer.

 

Dean dropped himself down on a bar stool and got himself a drink. _Johnnie Walker red. Neat, thanks, sweetheart_. The barely legal bartender smirked as she slid his drink over, her perky tits ready to burst out of her tank top but Dean couldn't muster up anything more than a brief glance. She was all wrong. Her eyes weren't the right colour, too much blue and not enough every other fucking eye colour possible and she didn't even have dimples. She continued to fill his glass when it needed filled all the while sneaking glances over when she thought he couldn't see her.

 

The absence of Sam and his ever present disregard of such bars played on Dean's mind a lot more than he wanted it to. Dean needed to get drunk and he needed to do it fast, his brain needed to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. Dean's brain however was not getting the memo and instead assaulted him with images of Sam, Sam with wide eyes full of hurt and his soft lips turned down at the edge in that pathetic little pout he always does when he's truly upset. Sam's lips were so undeniably soft and now Dean knew that, had felt them against his own and he'd lying if he said his cock didn't twitch when he thought about this brother's mouth and all the uses it could have.

 

Dean's phone ringing brought him out of his traitorous thoughts. He felt a brief moment of panic, scared that it might be Sam calling him. Sam with his soft voice and quiet words that always made Dean feel like a total dick. But it wasn't Sam's name on his screen accompanied by that stupid picture from forever ago of Sam with that damn spoon in his mouth. It was Bobby. Dean wasn't sure he could be bothered listening to whatever he had to say but he did kind of leave Bobby to deal with the case and that Jeremy kid so he probably owed the guy. Bobby's gruff voice reprimanded him through the phone, the same way he did back when Dean was a kid. Dean's already lowered self status took another beating. Dean really knew how to fuck shit up. Just as Dean was about to say his thanks and hang up, Bobby spoke again, his voice considerably softer.

 

"You and that brother of yours ain't fighting, are ya?"

 

Dean felt himself freeze, Bobby didn't get enough credit for his deduction skills. He wanted to laugh, to say that he and Sam didn't fight but the words got stuck in his throat. The "nah, man, we're good. Tired, y'know how it is" turned into "I fucked up" and Dean could hear the sigh from the other end of the phone. In a moment of total insanity, Dean wanted to spill, he wanted to open up his head and bear it to the world. He wanted to cry his pathetic little heart out in a sleazy bar full of scumbags in some no name town. But he didn’t. As much as Dean loved Bobby like a father and knew that Bobby cared about him just as much, admitting that he wanted to fuck his baby brother would not go over well and the old man was more than likely to fill him full of buckshot and never let him see Sam again.

 

“Don’t you go troublin’ yourself, Sam’ll forgive you. He always does don’t he?”

 

Bobby’s gruff voice had a way of calming Dean, always had done. Never failed to bring Dean back to being a kid sitting out in the salvage yard a with little Sammy on his lap while the same voice told him not to go worrying about his daddy and told him that he and his brother were just fine. Dean figured he’d probably drank too much whisky if his sudden affection for Bobby was anything to go by. Dean wanted to be comforted by the other hunter though, he wanted it so bad. To believe that yeah, Sam did always forgive him no matter what shitty thing he had done. Dean couldn’t tell the older man that this time it was different though, couldn’t tell him that he’d lost Sam for real this time and he wasn’t getting him back. This wasn’t a situation Dean knew how to handle, he couldn’t make a stupid joke and smirk at Sam until he was pressing his lips together to keep the smile at bay and turning his head so Dean wouldn’t see that little spark in his eyes or the dimples coming out to play in his cheeks. Dean had fucked up worse than ever before.

 

“I’d never make him do it. Not if he didn’t want to”

 

Dean had spoken before he could stop. His stupid fucking mouth spilling out words without upstairs approval. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, never mind to Bobby. Dean was drunk, he knew that for certain now. The slight blurring of the room and his sudden inability to reach for his glass were definitely helpful pointers.

 

“What in the hell you talkin’ about, boy? Make who do what? Sam?”

 

Bobby was confused, hell so was Dean. Sam probably was too. God, Sam. Poor Sam. Suddenly that was all Dean could think about, his little brother alone and confused. All fucking alone because Dean couldn’t be man enough to talk to him, to make him feel better. Dean sucked at being a big brother, he was supposed to look out for Sam, not leave him, not make him feel like he had to fucking kiss his brother to keep him happy. Fuck, Dean really did deserve hell.

 

“Dean! What you saying here? What did you do to Sam? You don’t deserve hell, c’mon now, boy! Where’s Sam? Dean. Where is your brother?”

 

Dean’s brain to mouth filter had officially broken. Had he just said all of that? To Bobby? Shit.

 

“Dean, I swear to every fucking holy thing in this world, you better answer me!”

 

Dean’s overeager mouth had nothing to say now. He was royally fucked.

 

“I’m calling Sam”

 

The phone went dead and all Dean could hear was his blood pounding in his ears.

 

_Well, fuck me._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So thanks for reading, sorry this took so long, I had no idea where I wanted this story to go but I have a clear idea now! If any of you still care let me know if you want more thanks xx


	8. Chapter 8

An insistent ringing filled the small room, the sound echoing of the walls.

 

_Freckles and golden skin, bright eyes and soft smiles._

 

The shrill noise broke through Sam’s sleepy haze, his eyes blinking open.

 

_Laughlines and calloused hands, sly smirks and strong arms._

 

Sam shook his head and blinked his eyes owlishly, trying to clear his head and dislodge himself from his dream state. A sleepy mumble of his brother’s name left his mouth as Sam rubbed his face with his palm. The odd ringing continued on and Sam realised with delayed reaction that it was his phone. He sat up and stretched his arms behind his head and scanned the room. It was still dark and he was still alone. Reaching blindly for his phone with hope swelling in his chest - _please be Dean_ \- Sam grabbed his cell and tried to not deflate when Bobby’s name appeared on the screen.

 

Sam felt his heart hammer in his chest as he answered the call. Why was Bobby calling him this late at night? Was he hurt? Was _Dean_ hurt?

 

“Sam? Goddamnit, Sam”

 

Bobby was scared. Sam could hear it in the older man’s voice and it took a lot to scare Bobby and Sam’s heart seemed to flip over as his thoughts turned dark. Images of a bloody and bruised Dean flashed through his mind, Dean calling for him, Dean hurt, Dean dying, _Deandeandean._

 

“Bobby? What’s up? Are you okay? Is De-”

 

The rest of Sam’s sentence never made it past his lips as Bobby started speaking again. His voice hard.

 

“Where are you?”

 

Sam paused, confusion swirling through him, his sleepy daze clouding his mind.

 

“A m-motel, um Paradise I t-think or Sunset Valley or y’know. Pittsburgh, I’m in a motel in Pittsburgh”

 

Sam didn’t stammer over his words usually, hadn’t done so in a long time. It used to be a real problem for him, his words would jumble and whatever he was saying became redundant due to his inability to speak. And then Dean would look at him out of the corner of his eye with a smirk playing on his lips and Sam would start to stutter and blush and his brother would just laugh and ruffle his hair with a fond _“Oh, Sammy”_ and sling his arm around his neck. Sam’s chest seemed to actually ache as he thought of Dean. God, he missed him, missed how they used to be.

 

“You doing okay, boy? You hurtin’ at all?”

 

Bobby’s voice cut through Sam’s thoughts, pulling him from his memories. Sam blinked and screwed his face up in confusion, what was Bobby on about?

 

“I’m fine...why, I mean what’s going on?”

 

Sam could hear the sharp intake of breath from the other end of the phone. Sam’s stomach twisted in fear, what the hell was wrong with Bobby?

 

“Sam. If Dean ever, I mean, if you. Goddammit, boy. You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

 

Sam couldn’t breathe. The air stuck in lungs. There was a dull roaring in his ears and his heart tried to punch through his chest. Dean wouldn’t have told Bobby, he’d never be that stupid. But then Dean hasn’t slept in _days_ and if Sam knew his brother at all then Dean was, without a doubt, blind drunk right now.

 

“I need you to answer me here. Dean thinks...I mean, fuck. Your brother...he wouldn’t”

 

Bobby’s voice was quiet and far away. Sam could hear the fear in the man’s voice and he wanted to say something to reassure him, tell him that everything was okay but nothing came out. His throat seized and all his words were swallowed.

 

“Sam, oh god Sam. Fuck, did he do something, something you didn’t want him to? Oh, god, Sammy”

 

_Sammy_. It was the Sammy that caught him. Bobby hadn’t called him Sammy since he was about eight. He’d been the only one who had stopped calling him it when he asked. Bobby had always done what Sam had asked of him. He had snuck Sam candy when no was looking, bought him books that he knew he would like and he had lied to John when Sam had turned up on his doorstep, barely eighteen years old and full of dreams of college.

 

Bobby called him Sammy. Bobby was scared. Bobby thought Dean had... _oh fuck_.

 

“No! Fuck, no! Bobby, this is Dean we’re talking about. He’d never…”

 

Sam’s mouth could barely keep up with the speed he was throwing his words out. The need to reassure Bobby, to defend Dean, it was suffocating him.

 

Bobby’s relieved exhale settled Sam’s beating heart slightly. Bobby believed him.

 

“Right, okay, yeah. Of course. I, uh, had to ask, y’know, incase. You sure though, not coverin’ for him, no?”

 

Sam almost laughed, a giggle bubbled up inside his chest threatening to break through. God, he was fucking insane.

 

“No, c’mon, no”

 

Sam could almost see Bobby nodding his head, pulling off his cap and running his hands through his hair.

 

“So, uh, everything is...oh god, can’t believe I’m even saying this. Look, you and your brother, you’ve lived one hell of a life and uh you’ve always been close and I’m not one to judge - ”

 

This was not happening. This was not actually happening. Sam had seen and heard a lot of crazy shit in his life but this, _god kill me now_ , this took the fucking cherry.

 

“Stop, please, just stop. Can we just never, ever talk about this?”

 

Sam had to restrain himself from diving under his duvet and hiding his face in the pillow.

 

“Uh yeah, you look after yourself, kid. Call me if you ever need to okay, no judgement”

 

Sam’s face rivaled the eyes of a crossroad demon at this point, he let out a mumbled thanks before hanging up.

 

He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening. Two days ago the thought of Dean feeling anything other than brotherly towards him was absurd, hell it was still absurd. Sam eye’s burned as he thought of his brother, his brother who had always seemed so perfect. Dean, with his stupidly bright eyes and strong jawline, why would he want Sam? Why would anyone want Sam? He was too tall and too awkward and not enough _good_. And Dean was everything that Sam has ever wanted, he was beautiful, and safe and _home_. And he was Sam’s.

 

Dean was Sam’s. Of course he was, he had always been. Dean belonged to Sam as much as Sam belonged to Dean.

 

Sometimes Sam felt like he was swimming through mud, his brain sluggish and uncooperative and then suddenly a thought would break through it all and he'd be struck dumb with simplicity of it all. So when the motel door swung open, banging against the wall, and his brother stumbled in with his eyes wide and cheeks flushed, there was only one thing on Sam’s mind.

 

_I belong to you and you belong to me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Omg, you guys are actually amazing and your response to this fic has been insane! I genuinely didn't think any of you would still care after the massive break in between updates but you guys were just awesome. It totally inspires me to write more, so thank you!! As always let me know if you want more xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So there's a little bit of smut in here oh my

Sam was staring at him, staring at him in the way made Dean’s skin almost crawl and made his heart double in time and his stomach flip. The air around him seemed to thicken, it felt too heavy and Dean wasn’t sure if he was even breathing it in anymore. Dean’s skin felt charged with some sort of weird electricity and he wondered if Sam felt it too, the static and the heavy air.

Dean still hadn’t shut the door and cool air made the hair rise on his neck. His brother had curled his impossibly long legs underneath him and his hands were spread out across his knees. In that moment, in the darkened room, Sam looked so incredibly young clad only in his too big t-shirt and faded boxers. His eyes were wide and dark and his mouth slightly open. God help him, his brother was beautiful.

Dean’s heart thumped painfully against his chest, he was pretty sure his lungs had given up on him long ago. His eyes followed the slightly erratic rise and fall of Sam’s chest and he watched the growing blush spread across his brother’s cheeks. Sam’s shoulders quivered slightly and Dean’s big brother instinct took over him, before he fully registered his own actions he had shut the door and strode half way across the room, stopping at the foot of the bed.

Sam stared at him in that way that made Dean feel funny all over and Dean stared back. He wasn’t sure what he should say. Apologise for leaving him? Thank him for still being in the room? Ask if Bobby had called? Dean didn’t know what he could say, didn’t know if Sam even wanted to listen. When Dean had hightailed it out of the bar and drove down to the motel he had half expected it to be empty, for Sam to have been long gone. Dean didn’t think that Sam would have stayed, not for him anyway. Maybe Bobby hadn’t called yet. That meant that no one had tried to talk any sense into Sam yet, convinced him to leave Dean. So, Dean could maybe make him stay, tell Sam that he was sorry, promise to never mention how he felt or touch him.  Dean could that; he would do it, for Sam. Dean could do anything for Sam.

But Sam was still staring and no one had said anything yet and Dean’s head was blurry and confused with lack of sleep and whisky. Maybe, when shit hits the fan he could blame the alcohol and tiredness and maybe, just maybe, Sam would forgive him.  Sam craned his neck to look up at him and Dean couldn’t tell was Sam was thinking. His brother looked almost calm despite his audible breathing and the way his fingers clenched and unclenched around his knees.

“Hey, Dean”

Sam’s voice was soft and quiet but it shattered the silence of the room and caused Dean’s heart to increase tenfold.

“Hey there, Sammy”

His own voiced sounded hoarse and slurred. Dean coughed, trying to clear his throat. Sam continued to look up at him, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth allowing a hint of dimples to be seen his cheeks. Dean didn’t know how Sam could be so beautiful and get his dick harder than a rock in less than ten seconds and still to be the cutest thing that Dean had ever seen.

Dean suddenly felt too far away from his brother, like the short distance between them had stretched impossibly within mere seconds. Something must have changed in Dean’s face because he saw Sam’s own expression change, his little smile faltered and his eyes grew sad.  Dean hated Sam’s sad face, it was worse than anything else in this world. Dean would be more than content with his impending fate if he lived the rest of life without ever looking into those sad eyes. Sam’s large doe-like eyes never failed to stir up the big brother in him, to make him almost ache in his need to see the light come back in his brother’s eyes, to be the one to destroy whatever had caused his Sammy to be sad. But as of late, it had been Dean that had caused the sadness. It had been Dean who hurt Sam, long before he made the deal. Dean always made Sam sad, and it broke Dean’s fucking heart every time.

“I’m sorry, y’know, for everything”

Dean whispered his apology, barely able to meet Sam’s eyes. The guilt was bubbling up inside him, threatening to consume him. Why couldn’t be the man Sam needed him to be?

“It doesn’t have to change anything, we can still be us. If you want or I could drop you off at Bobby’s or something or did you want to go to California or…”

Dean was rambling, he knew he was rambling. But he needed Sam to know that he could leave him alone if that’s what he wanted, he could still be his big brother. Dean needed to still be Sam’s big brother; it was all he knew how to do. Yeah, he had been doing a piss poor job of it lately but it was still his job.

“Dean. Dean, listen to me. _Dean!_ ”

Dean stopped talking and looked at Sam, his Sam. Dean simply looked at his beautiful, stubborn bitch of a brother with his bright eyes and soft smiles, bright eyes and soft smiles that were currently directed at him. Dean felt a rush of warmth as Sam looked at him, he almost always did but this time his heart hammered against his ribs and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Dean would walk straight into hell with a spring in his step if Sam always looked at him like this.

“Maybe, I want it to change things”

Dean’s heart stopped. Dean’s heart _actually_ stopped, he was sure of it. Did Sam mean what he thought he meant? The hope swirling inside him was reaching breaking point and Dean suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. He was completely at Sam’s mercy and a few choice words from his brother and he’d be broken beyond repair.

“Sammy…”

Dean’s voice broke as he whispered his brother’s name. He was breaking, drowning in his own head.

“Dean”

Sam was still staring, he was still sat on the shitty bed with his legs curled underneath him and he was everything that Dean called home. Dean needed this to be real, needed this not to be some left over hallucination from the dream root or a whisky fuelled dream. He wouldn’t be able to cope if he suddenly woke up slumped over on a sticky bar, he needed this like the air he breathed, needed Sam.

“I’ve been thinking…I mean, I’m yours right? And you’re mine? It’s you and me against the world yeah? It’s always been you and me”

Sam’s voice wavered slightly but his eyes stayed glued to Dean’s. Sam’s eyes always said more than his mouth and right now they were locked on Dean’s and they were sincere and full of the same devotion little Sam used to have when he looked at his brother.

_It’s always been you and me_.

Those words rang more true than anything Dean had ever known, it has always been him and Sam and it always would be. They could face anything together, the yellow eyed demon, Lilith, Hell. Nothing was too much for them. Nothing was too much for Dean if he had Sam.

Dean never took his eyes of Sam, not as he pulled the jacket from his shoulders or when he kicked his boots of his feet. Sam stared right back as Dean lowered himself onto the bed, close enough to touch his brother but not actually.

“Don’t do this because you feel you have to. I mean it, Sam. Don’t”

Dean spoke a lot more harshly than he intended to but he needed Sam to mean it. Dean had meant what he had said in his drunken ramblings to Bobby, he would never force Sam to do anything he didn’t want. Sam was not his to use for sexual gratification, he was his little brother and Dean needed him to know that. He wasn’t one for chick flick moments and he wasn’t ready to spill his heart out but he would not touch Sam unless Sam wanted it, wanted him.

Sam moved forward, his legs brushing against Dean’s and rested his forehead against his brother’s. The boys sat across from each other, foreheads touching and their faces mere inches apart. Dean could feel the air move against his mouth as Sam breathed and could see each dark eyelash as they fluttered against Sam’s flushed cheeks.

“You and me, Dean. It’s you and me”

Sam’s eyes were almost grey in the soft light from the neon sign outside and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Dean’s eyes followed the movement with rapt attention and felt himself move just a centimetre closer, his nose brushing against Sam’s.

“I need you to mean it, Sammy. Shit, I need you to”

Sam’s head bobbed as he nodded, the small movement pushing their faces impossibly closer. His irises were becoming swallowed by his pupils and Dean’s felt a flash of heat burn through him as Sam’s eyes dropped down to his mouth and then back up to his eyes.

“ _Dean_ , _please_ ”

Sam’s whispered broken plea was better than anything Dean had ever came up with in his head and every bit of resolve slipped away as he looked at his brother. Sam was more beautiful than ever and he wanted to Dean. Dean sucked in a breath before finally pushing his mouth against Sam’s. He felt more than heard Sam’s sharp inhale and felt the shudder that rippled through Sam. Dean felt a brief rush of panic, what if this wasn’t what Sam wanted at all. But then Sam’s entire body seemed to jerk and he was pressed up against him.

Sam’s mouth was firm and soft at the same time and Dean could feel his brother’s hands grasp at his shoulders and arms, trying to find purchase. Dean wound one arm around his brother’s back, pulling Sam towards him until he was practically on his lap. His other hand tangled in Sam’s stupidly long hair and pulled him closer.

Dean needed Sam, needed him closer than he already was. He felt like a drowning man breaking through the surface. He dragged his tongue across Sam’s lips, begging to be let in, to taste more of his brother.

Sam’s mouth parted as he let out a broken moan and Dean slipped his tongue into his brother’s mouth. Sam was warm and wet and better than Dean could have ever dreamed up. He tasted like mint and sleep and home and Dean could live forever this way.

Sam pulled himself further into Dean’s lap, his ridiculously long legs locking around his brother’s waist and Dean couldn’t hold back the wrecked groan when he felt his brother ground himself down on his crotch.

“ _Dean_ ”

Sam’s voice was lower than Dean had ever heard it and he could feel his entire body shudder as Sam groaned his name in his ear.

“I got you, Sammy. So good sweetheart”

The pet name rolled off Dean’s tongue before his brain had processed it and he was pretty sure he was about to be met with Sam’s bitchface but instead his brother let out a quiet whine and rocked his hips down, grinding himself against Dean.

Dean’s eyes practically rolled back into his head and he crushed Sam to him, his jeans felt too tight and he needed to feel Sam, just Sam. Dean’s head was fuzzy like he wasn’t breathing in enough oxygen and he honestly couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol from earlier or just the effect of Sam. Dean wondered if he should slow down, if this was too much, if he was too drunk.

“Sammy, shit. Baby, slow down”

Sam whined in response and pushed himself harder against Dean. His body moulded against his brother and Dean was nowhere near mentally strong enough to try and discourage Sam’s movements. His hands gripped at Sam’s shirt, riding it up and Dean grasped onto his brother’s hips, digging in fingers hard enough to bruise.

“Please, Dean, please. God, need to feel you. _Dean_ ”

Dean challenged anyone to hear Sam moan so prettily and be able to resist him. His hands yanked at his own shirt pulling it from his body and in seconds Sam’s scorching hands were leaving burning trails across his skin.

“Okay, yeah. Fuck, Sammy”

Dean’s voice was wrecked but Sam’s wasn’t much better. He pushed his brother onto his back and lowered himself on top of him. Sam’s hard body aligned with Dean’s and their moans were swallowed into harsh kisses.

Dean pulled his head back and looked at Sam. His brother’s eyes were almost all pupil and his lips were red and swollen. Dean swelled with pride at the evidence of him all over his brother’s body and his cock twitched as Sam stared up at him with his bright eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, kiddo”

Dean groaned out his words as he lowered himself back down on his brother and attached his mouth to Sam’s neck. As Sam bucked up against him and moaned oh so prettily, Dean figured he could die quite happy.

Dean knew it would be a different story in the morning and they were far from rainbows and sunshine but with his brother writhing underneath him and with his name coming from Sam’s lips, Dean was happy and in the morning when shit hit the fan he would blame the whisky and lack of sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg so I suck at updating but here we go chapter 9! First time actually writing some smut so if it sucked I'm so very sorry! As always let me know if you want more :) xx


	10. Chapter 10

Sam was burning.

There was a fire inside of him, burning through his veins and curling in his stomach. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He was burning, burning alive and nothing could stop it. His skin felt too tight for his body, a thin sheet pulled taught over his bones. Sam’s fingers curled around burning flesh, but it wasn’t his own. He wasn’t burning alone.

Sam lay on a bed and let the fire consume him, felt the flames lick at his skin. Hands rough with callouses pulled at him, gripped him tight, hands that Sam knew anywhere. They were the hands that held him when he was scared, pushed the sweaty hair back from his head when he was sick, the hands that had always brought him home when he was gone away too long.

“Sam, my Sammy”

Sam felt the air leave his lungs as his brother spoke. His back arched and Dean was there, pulling at his body, bringing him closer.  Dean was burning too. They were burning together.

“Dean. De, _please_ ”

Sam didn’t recognise his own voice; it was needy and broke when he said his brother’s name. He didn’t know what he was asking for, maybe for the burning to stop, maybe for it to never end. Dean would know though, Dean always knew what Sam needed.

Dean’s answer was an honest to god growl and the burning in Sam’s stomach rivalled the heat of a thousand suns. Dean pulled away and a whine dragged its way from Sam’s throat. Maybe he should be embarrassed by his own neediness, ashamed by his want.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart”

Sam’s body jerked upwards without thought. _Sweetheart_. He liked Dean calling him that. In the shitty motel room where Sam was burning alive, he was Dean’s sweetheart.

Dean pulled of Sam’s shirt and stared at him. Sam squirmed under his brother’s gaze, his fingers clenching with the sudden need to cover up and to hide. His hands gripped at the bed sheet as his eyes focused on a small stain on the far wall

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Sam looked up at Dean almost expecting to see a smirk, for Dean to laugh at him and call him a girl. But instead worried green eyes stared back at him, his brother’s mouth was pulled down into a frown and Sam had the insane urge to kiss it away.

“You’re beautiful”

Sam dropped his eyes down, unable to cope with the unwavering gaze of his brother. He had never seen Dean look so serious, so utterly sincere. Dean thought Sam was beautiful. And perfect.

“Look at me. Sammy, please”

Sam couldn’t look at Dean. He just couldn’t. Dean _was_ beautiful and perfect, with his pretty eyes and soft lips, sculpted chest and chiselled jaw. He was heartbreakingly beautiful and Sam was just _Sam_. Nothing special, nothing pretty.

“Baby, look at me. _Sam!_ ”

Sam had barely lifted his head before his lips were captured by his brother and his mouth was being claimed once again. And just like before a fire burned through him within seconds of Dean’s mouth touching his own.

“I’ll show you. Show you, how – _fuck!_ -gorgeous you are”

Dean’s words were punctuated with kisses and nips of his teeth against Sam’s lips and Sam was becoming lost to the flames again, lost to his brother.  Sam wanted to stop time and just live forever like this, just him and Dean.

The harsh material of Dean’s jeans rubbed against Sam’s bare legs, the denim chafing his thighs. He knew that soon the skin would be red raw but Sam could no longer control his own hips and he continued to rub himself over Dean. He felt like a bitch in heat and with the feeling of shame bubbling in him he wondered what he must look like to Dean. His brother didn’t seem to care though if his loud groans and sharp breaths were anything to go by.

“So, good. So good for me”

Sam’s body suddenly seemed overly sensitive and every touch was sending him into overdrive. His hands grabbed onto his brother, his dull nails scratching at Dean’s back. He needed Dean, all of Dean. His brother seemed to know that as his hands disappeared from Sam’s skin and started hastily twisting at his own belt. Dean kicked his jeans off and in seconds was back on Sam, his hands gripping at Sam’s hips pulling him ever closer.

Sam’s skin was aflame and he felt like every inch of himself was met with an inch of Dean.  The brothers were left only in their boxers and suddenly the situation became very real. Sam was hyper aware of every movement and he knew, even in his fuzzy, lust clouded head, what they were doing and what they were going to do. Now Sam was scared and the very thought overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what to expect, what Dean expected.

Dean was experienced, everyone who knew Dean knew that and Sam, well wasn’t. He’d had sex of course but it had been with girls and a while ago, and just like that Sam was screaming in his own head - _oh god I don’t know how to do this_.

Sam could feel the heat of his blush spread through his cheeks and his hips stopped their constant thrusting upwards into Dean. Sam’s chest tightened almost painfully as fear began to seep into him, he didn’t know what he was doing, or how to please Dean and he knew, _just knew_ , that he would end up embarrassing himself and disappointing Dean.

“Sam? Sammy, what’s wrong?”

Dean was hovering above him, arms braced on either side of Sam’s head. Sam stared determinedly at the hard lines of prominent veins and bulging muscle in his brother’s quivering arms, unable to look at Dean’s face. Tears burned at the corner of his eyes, god he was stupid, he had never done this before and Dean would know because Sam would be shit and this thing, this tentative little thing they have right now, would be over before it had ever really started. Sam’s heart actually hurt at the thought of this being over, in the short time that had passed Sam had become addicted to his brother and just like every other good thing in his life it would soon be ripped away from him.

“Sam?”

Dean’s voice wavered as he spoke, fear lilting his tone. Sam watched his brother’s hands clench and unclench and his arms seemed to shake with more than just effort of keeping balance.

“Look at me”

Sam couldn’t look at Dean. He watched a shiver run through his brother’s shoulders, it wasn’t cold. Sam wasn’t burning anymore but shame shot through him keeping him more than warm.

“ _Sam_ , please…I’m sorry”

Sam’s head shot up on its own accord. Sorry? Dean was sorry? Sam stared at his brother and felt his heart shatter as guilt, clear as day, shone in Dean’s eyes. Maybe Dean already regretted what they had done; maybe Sam wasn’t what he wanted.

“Oh, god. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean…did I hurt you? Baby, please”

Dean thought he had hurt Sam. In different circumstances Sam might have laughed, Dean never hurt him. Sam was pretty sure Dean couldn’t even if he tried.

“I know I was goin’ too fast. M’sorry…so sorry”

Sam started to shake his head as Dean spoke. God, how did this stuff happen? Had they gotten to the point where they misunderstood everything about each other? Sam knew he had very little time to convince his brother that he was not in fact hurting him or moving too fast before Dean closed himself off.

“No, Dean. You were fine, everything’s fine”

Sam was blushing so hard his face was reaching nuclear heat. How was he going to explain this to Dean? _Hey, big brother, so I’ve never had sex with a guy before and I have no idea what I’m doing and this is going to be shit. Still think I’m perfect?_ Somehow he didn’t think that would go down too well.

“But you stopped…”

Dean’s eyes widened once he had finished speaking and then suddenly he was tumbling out words so fast Sam barely caught what he was saying.

“Which is fine obviously. You can always stop, of course. I wasn’t sayin’ somethin’ had to be wrong for you to stop”

Sam felt a laugh bubble up inside him, there something completely absurd about Dean and his rambling. Dean almost never rambled and for some reason it was making Sam smile and it made his stomach feel warm and light.

“ _Dean._ I know, man, it’s okay”

Sam, despite the embarrassment that was threatening to consume him, curled his hand over the back of Dean’s neck, his thumb brushing the edge of his brother’s jaw. Sam felt like he was floating when Dean leaned his head ever so slightly into his hand. Dean shoulders lowered slightly from the taught position they had been in and his arms stopped quivering

“You wouldn’t look at me. And you looked scared, real scared, Sammy. I don’t wanna scare you”

Dean’s words were spoken softly and his eyes dropped down, focusing on a point somewhere above Sam’s left shoulder.

“You don’t. It’s just, I am scared but not of you. Never of you”

Sam mumbled out his words, his face flaming and his hands restless on the sheet underneath him.  Dean cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowed and Sam knew his brother was confused and he wished he could just drop the conversation. But he needed Dean to understand so he shoved down his shame and continued speaking.

“This, um, situation scares me. A lot. Because it’s well scary, I guess”

Sam wanted to smack himself in the face. He was never this inarticulate; he supposed to be the one that was good with words.

“I’ve never…”

 Sam coughed, his throat suddenly achingly dry.

“I’ve never, um y’know…with a guy”

Sam’s voice was barely a whisper by the time he had finished speaking and his fingers had unconsciously burrowed into Dean’s hair. He used to do it as a child too, wind his hands into his brother’s hair when he was scared or tired but then Dean had started cutting his hair short and Sam was told to grow up and stop being so needy.  

Dean’s eyes widened almost comically as he registered what Sam had just said and Sam stared as his brother’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed audibly. Dean’s heart was going a million miles an hour, Sam had never been with a guy, and Dean would be his first in a way.

Sam stared as Dean’s pupil seemed to swallow the iris and he could feel the hard line of his brother pushing against his hip. The hardness had gone down significantly during their conversation but appeared to be back with a vengeance and a different kind of blush began to spread across Sam’s cheeks.

“That’s really…I mean. Fuck, Sammy. I’ll take care of you, I’ll take such good care of you, baby”

Dean’s words were growled out and he pushed his forehead against his brother’s. Sam could feel Dean’s breath ghost over his mouth and in that moment all he wanted was to be kissed by Dean again, to be claimed and feel belonged again. But instead another thought bloomed into his mind and Sam yanked his head back so quick it almost hurt.

“You have? Like with a guy?”

Sam knew his brother had done many different and adventurous things in his sex life but Dean was always pretty open about it and he had never said anything about being with a man. Not even hinted. Dean blushed ever so slightly and shrugged his shoulders, a small sheepish smile twitching his lips.

“I was curious”

Dean’s smile was soon replaced with what Sam could only describe as a smirk. Sam was honestly pretty surprised and maybe a little hurt, he thought he knew everything about Dean and this seemed like a pretty important fact. Sam figured he should ignore the hurt; Dean didn’t have to tell him, Sam just wished he had.

“Um…how was it?”

Sam shuffled as he spoke, feeling more than a little bashful. Dean laughed the laugh that made Sam feel warm and always brought a smile to his own face. Sam stared into Dean’s eyes; they were bright and full of mirth, the sides crinkling with the force of Dean’s chuckle.

“It was okay, thanks for asking”

Dean spoke softly, amusement clear in his voice and Sam blushed as Dean reached out his hand to push his brother’s hair away from his forehead and behind his ear.

“Just okay?”

Sam didn’t know why he was asking that. It wasn’t like he wanted a play by play of Dean’s experience. Actually, the thought of that made a weight settle in his stomach and his heart rate to speed up. Dean simply nodded, the hand that had moved his hair was now absently tracing lines into his neck and Sam could feel each burning trail seconds after Dean had stopped touching that part of skin.

“Why just okay?”

Sam should probably shut up; further questioning was likely to make him more uncomfortable than he already was. The funny weight in stomach seemed to grow the more he thought about the people who have shared Dean’s bed and Sam knew logically that he was jealous but he didn’t want to admit that because it was just stupid.

Dean smiled softly, his eyes the colour of moss and Sam wanted to stare at him forever. Dean leaned down and brushed his lips against his brother’s ear.

“They weren’t you”

Sam’s body arched without his permission and he couldn’t stop the small moan that left his mouth. Dean moved his lips from Sam’s ear down the length of his neck, nipping gently as he went.

“Any other questions because I’d really like to put that mouth of yours to better work, sweetheart”

Sam felt heat flash through him and pool in his stomach, replacing the heavy weight.

“Just one more question”

Dean groaned softly at Sam’s answer and although it was more from frustration that anything else the vibrations across Sam’s neck still caused the younger man to shiver.

“Ask away then”

Dean continued to mouth at Sam’s neck as he spoke and honestly despite what he said he was quite happy to stay kissing his brother’s neck if Sam still wanted to talk.

“Um, it’s a bit personal?”

Sam’s statement came out sounding more like a question than he had intended. It was supposed to be a warning but instead sounded like he was asking for permission. Dean simply hummed into his neck and Sam took it as the approval it was.

“Did you, uh, I mean were you…”

Sam trailed off not quite sure how to phrase his question or if it was question he ever really needed to ask because he was pretty sure of the answer anyway.

“Are you asking if I topped or not?”

Dean questioned him with a good natured chuckled and placed a kiss under Sam’s ear. Sam blushed furiously but bobbed his head to answer that yes, that had indeed been his question.

“I did. Top I mean. You know we don’t actually have to do that if you don’t want to. There’s lot of other stuff we could do”

Dean’s little smirk was downright sinful and Sam wanted to kiss the stupid smile off his face. Sam’s heart started to pound in his chest as he realised that he could, he could kiss Dean and Dean would kiss back. He could feel a smile creeping its way onto his mouth and Sam knew that Dean had noticed because a similar smile was blooming on his brother’s face and Sam was struck with just how stupidly beautiful Dean really was.

Dean’s eyes were brighter than Sam had ever seen them and they practically glowed in the soft light of the room. His smile made Sam’s heart stutter and Sam without much thought closed the short distance between them and pressed his mouth to Dean’s.

Sam felt a hand wind in his hair and another drag down his side, hooking under his thigh and hitching his leg over Dean. He groaned into his brother’s mouth and brought his other leg around Dean’s waist, pushing his brother further against him and creating more friction between them.

Dean’s hands slipped under the back of Sam’s boxers, his wind hand splayed over the naked flash and squeezed. Hard. Sam’s gasp was lost in the kiss and he felt more than heard his brother’s answering groan. There was no space between the brothers and Sam never wanted to be separate from Dean ever again, he would live and die this way with no complaints.

“Sammy. So beautiful, Sammy. Gonna take care of you, baby, promise”

Dean’s words were moaned into his brother’s skin and with every touch Sam’s insecurities slipped away.  Sam knew that Dean would take care of him, he always had.

Sam was beginning to realise that Dean was pretty vocal as when Dean _finally_ slipped them both out of their boxers and Sam was a panting mess, all he could hear was the constant praise streaming from Dean’s mouth mixed with a curse and groan of his brother’s name.

Dean’s hands were strong as he held Sam, his mouth hot and his words loving. And Sam, although insecure and shy, felt safe and cared for in his brother’s arms. His legs clenched harder around Dean and Dean’s hips shoved down hard against Sam’s. Their bodies were slick with sweat and every thrust was bringing them closer to the edge.

 “Shit, sugar. _Fuck”_

Sam was burning again and his nails clawed at Dean’s back as his brother groaned filthily into his ear. His body shuddered as Dean rocked their hips together and his toes curled as Dean continue to mumble about how good he was, how beautiful he was.

Sam’s orgasm ripped through him, wrecking him as he screamed out his brother’s name. He could hear Dean groaning into his neck, feel his fingers tightening their hold on Sam – surely leaving bruises, and finally feel the splashes of come onto his belly.

Sam lay on the bed, his chest heaving and his cock spent and stared at Dean. His eyes were screwed shut, a deep red flush along his cheeks and his lips swollen and kissed. Dean flopped down onto Sam, his lips mouthing silent words into his brother’s neck.

After an eternity or maybe it was mere seconds, Dean rolled off Sam and onto his back. Sam lay side by side with his brother and with both their come cooling on his stomach and fear crawling into his veins he chanced a look at his brother. Things would be different now, there was no going back. They hadn’t fucked, hadn’t done anything more than rub against each other but they had changed. It didn’t matter if they changed for the better or for the worse, they had changed and Sam suddenly felt very small and very vulnerable.

Dean turned to look at Sam and stared at him, seconds ticking by. Dean’s eyes dropped down to the mess on his brother’s tummy and without thinking he scooped up his t-shirt and mopped it up.

“Thanks”

Sam’s throat was impossibly dry and his voice sounded more like a croak than anything else.

“Sure thing, Sammy”

Dean smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Sam felt unreasonably cold all of a sudden and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and hide away from this awkward situation. He stared at his brother and thought to himself _what now?_

Dean, as always, sensed Sam’s discomfort. He coughed and fiddled with the off white sheet beneath him.

“Look, it’s like 4am. Can we save the big heart to heart moment and the actual thinking until morning? Let’s get some shuteye, alright”

Dean’s big brother voice was on full force, the one that told Sam that he was not to argue. If Sam was being totally honest he agreed that now wasn’t the time to talk about it. They definitely needed to talk about it, no matter how much Dean would try to put it off, but the older man was right, they needed sleep.

Dean nodded to himself with Sam showed no intention of arguing and sat himself up. Fear flashed through Sam, making his blood run cold. Was Dean going to get out of the bed? Sam didn’t think he could take it if Dean left him to sleep in his own bed like nothing had happened.

Sam’s heartbeat slowed as he watched Dean pull the covers over the both of them, a silent message that he was sleeping with Sam tonight. Sam released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and shuffled an inch closer to his brother. He heard the small chuckle leave his brother’s mouth before he felt an arm drape over his waist and pull him onto his side. Sam was pulled flush against Dean, his back against the older man’s front and he felt a small kiss on his shoulder as he settled in next to his brother.

“Go to sleep, Sammy”

Dean’s words were soft and quiet as he nuzzled his nose against Sam’s silken hair and the younger man simply hummed in response and smiled sleepily.

Things had changed and Sam knew that in the morning light everything would be different, but curled up in his brother’s arms with Dean’s lips still on his neck, Sam was content to leave the thinking and worrying until tomorrow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So please let me know what you think and if you want more as it totally inspires me to write :)thanks for reading xx


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